Bound
by Belles of St Trinian's
Summary: Four times she had fallen, but Kelly Jones didn't fall for people. She was too smart to let emotions – that kind of emotions – get in her way. Love was a word without meaning, a word she never threw around. - Kelly/Annabelle eventually
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own anything**

BOUND

Kelly Jones could count the number of times she had found herself falling on one hand. Not only that, but she could specifically list each situation that had caused her to fall, as well.

Growing up with surprisingly strict parents had left little Kelly with no room for decision making and independence. The clothes she wore, the toys she could play with, what time she was supposed to go to bed; everything was decided for her and this used to drive the young child mad. It was on the day of her fifth birthday when she fell for the first time. After unwrapping all her presents and frowning in disappointment upon realising she hadn't gotten the Action Man figure she so much craved for, Kelly threw a fit in front of her stunned parents. The next day, she decided to discard her pink frilly dress for something more comfortable, something that would allow her to climb up a tree without having to worry about her knickers showing, and spent the entire morning, afternoon and evening in her pyjamas, much to her mother's dismay. The day after, she hid under the covers, flashlight in hand, and stayed up past her bed-time reading her favourite comics.

_Rebellion_. Kelly Jones was hooked, and it would only be a downward spiral from then on.

Once the Jones couple had decided their daughter was more than they could handle, they admitted defeat and dropped her off at the only school they knew she couldn't get kicked out of. St. Trinian's was nothing like Kelly had imagined school would be, there were no rules, the teachers were too busy getting sloshed to care about their lessons and knowing how to handle explosives was more important than learning how to multiply. Pranksters were glorified and even thinking about applying yourself to your classes made you an easy target for mockery. During her second week at the infamous school, Kelly decided to sneak out of the dorms and wander throughout the halls of the building before venturing outside. She waited for a solid twenty minutes alone in the chilling night, fully prepared for a grown up to appear and scold her for being out of bed, but no one came.

A wide smile crept over her features. _Freedom_.

Kelly never thought of herself as a Posh Totty, she didn't fit the typical stereotype of tall blonde beauty without a single thought in their head. She didn't see herself as much of a Geek either and she had prayed and prayed to whoever was willing to listen that she wasn't a Chav. She felt most closely identified with the Emos, but she decided she was far too much of an individual to consider herself as part of their clique. By her third year at St. Trinian's, she had already adopted her trademark red lipstick, she began to adorn her neck with either a padlock choker or a barbed wire necklace, and she had dyed her auburn hair dark black and cut her long locks into a very short bob. The fact that she didn't belong to a specific clique didn't make her an outcast in a school full of outcasts; on the contrary, she managed to make good friends with the future leaders of each clique: Taylor, Andrea, Polly and Chelsea. The students respected her, the teachers feared her, and the Headmistress had found herself a potential Head Girl. On a particular night when the spiv of the school was driving a hard bargain, Kelly had sauntered across the room, her movements delivered with attention and intention, her words carefully planned and her smirk dangerously divine, and Flash Harry had agreed to everything the girls asked for and possibly more. She learned that wearing clothes that accentuated her curves, swaying her hips painfully slowly and running her tongue against her lips could get her very, very far.

The third time: _seduction_.

The summer before her last year at St. Trinian's, Kelly had promised herself she would make the absolute most out of it. She was ready to make it the most memorable and fun of them all, but not even in her wildest dreams had the Head Girl imagined she would be planning to steal the Girl with a Pearl Earring (or Scarlett Johansson, if you asked Chelsea) with the rest of the girls. She wouldn't have imagined Annabelle Fritton, the new girl, the girl who was broadcasted running stark naked on the internet, the girl who almost ruined their plans to save their beloved school would also be the one to come up with the idea to flog the painting and scam her own father in the process. After careful planning and realising how difficult it would be to get into the National Art Gallery, Kelly effortlessly managed to convince Ms. Dickinson they were _truly_ and _thoroughly_ interested in the School Challenge, the perfect cover to get them in.

This time, _manipulation_.

Four times she had fallen, but Kelly Jones didn't fall for people. She was too smart to let emotions – that kind of emotions – get in her way. Love was a word without meaning, a word she never threw around. The idea of being in love had its perks, though she would rather start wearing hoop earrings and fake designer brands than admit she's fantasized about it before, she thought it was too much of a hassle. _"When you have a school to rule and a handful of teachers to keep in line, you don't have time for such trivial things, silly," _the voice in her head reminded her the first time she had been dangerously close to falling again. She had been on the roof trying to convince Flash to pose as an art dealer and Annabelle had put emphasis on the prestigious German's sexual tendencies, once Flash agreed to go with it and left the two girls alone, she had asked Annabelle whether or not he was truly gay and when the younger girl smiled mischievously, Kelly decided it should be illegal for someone's smile to be so completely disarming.

The Heist had been a success, the school received a generous reward after returning the painting they had "found" and the money they got from Annabelle's dad left them with more than enough to pay St. Trinian's debt to the bank. It was the perfect excuse to celebrate in true St. Trinian style, not that the girls ever needed an excuse to party themselves unconscious, that is. The music blasted off the speakers until Miss Fritton announced the party had lasted long enough sometime between midnight and 1am, most of the older students had passed out before the alcohol could run out and the few younger ones still up were placing bets on how much longer until the resident Russian was knocked unconscious from having one too many shots of Trinski.

Kelly approached Annabelle as she was dancing carelessly to non-existent music. "Congratulations, Fritton, as of today you are a full-fledged trinian girl," she noticed the puzzled look on Annabelle's face and added, "you are still standing after how many shots of our very own vodka?"

"I stopped counting at three and started over, several times" Annabelle shrugged and extended both her arms, offering them to Kelly. Come tomorrow she would be nursing her first hangover, right now she just wanted to spend some quality time with her best friend. "Dance with me?"

"There's no music, Fritton" Kelly said, taking Annabelle's hands anyway and pulling her closer. "You never told me if the count was gay."

Kelly's warm breath tickled Annabelle's ear as she whispered, causing her to giggle and once again Kelly was too distracted to pry information out of the brown haired girl. This time she decided no one's giggle should be that infectious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews! I promise there'll be more dialog in the upcoming chapters, it's easier for me to start a story using more description than anything in order to get into the characters' head and hopefully explain how they got where they are at the moment better. Enjoy :) **

II

Kelly Jones had known exactly what she wanted to do after St. Trinian's. She had received plenty of offers, for legal and illegal jobs, but no matter how tempting the unlawful ones sounded, her mind was made up. She would become a spy for MI7 and serve her country no matter what. Loyalty was one of her strongest suits. Months of training hadn't prepared her for a life of constant jet-lag and near death situations. However, there was something about living on the edge that appealed to her, the rush of adrenaline flowing throw her veins during dangerous car chases was like nothing she'd experienced before. Off the top of her head she could come up with two obvious downsides to her profession, she didn't have enough time to see her friends (Read: Annabelle Fritton) as often as she would have liked and it was almost impossible for her to go back to St. Trinian's for the visits she'd promised the girls who didn't leave the school with her, the twins among others (Read: Annabelle Fritton.) Damn Fritton, how dared she worm her way into her thoughts like that? Another thing she could do without was the killing. Of course she never hesitated to pull the trigger if her life was at stake, but she didn't enjoy it as much of some of her co-workers did. Some said it made them feel empowered, others said that those deaths weren't regrettable losses anyway, just minor casualties. It made her sick, and she thought that in most cases severely injuring someone was enough. She had no problem with permanently maiming an enemy. Her partner had noticed this, thus they fell into a convenient routine. She'd first shoot to wound, then he'd shoot to kill. Kelly would always be thankful for such a generous arrangement.

Camilla Fritton had been the first person to know about Kelly's job, but per the former Head Girl's request she never mentioned it to anyone, not even to her niece. Polly, Taylor and Andrea found out a couple of weeks later. When a mission was jeopardized due to a double agent infiltrating the agency, Kelly realised how important it would be to have someone she could blindly trust in her line of work. Chelsea thought Kelly was a guard at the Buckingham Palace, after all, Kelly did say something about working for the Queen. She didn't tell Annabelle because in Kelly's mind, Annabelle was something like a delicate flower that needed her protection. It reminded her of The Little Prince and his rose. "You become responsible forever for what you have tamed. You're responsible for your rose," said the fox to the little prince. When Annabelle went from timid and weak daddy's girl to being a St. Trinian girl through and through, Kelly became responsible for her and she would always be.

The first time Agent Jones had killed someone turned out to be, to say the least, messy. She scrubbed her favourite boots a thousand times and she could still spot blood smudges. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the bullet piercing through her victim's skull leaving a hole and blood sprouting out of it. So she walked into a dodgy bar and decided to put an end to her woes by drinking herself into oblivion. A few pints, an unfinished crossword and half a bottle of whiskey later, left Kelly in a blissfully state of inebriation. She didn't have to take her eyes off of her drink to know someone else had joined her, she sensed her presence long before she felt a familiar body sit down next to her. Annabelle's scent was intoxicating in the most wonderful way.

"What are you doing here, Fritton?" a hint of anger could be heard in her voice, but Annabelle didn't take offense in that. She shrugged it off as Kelly being embarrassed for being seen in a drunken state.

"You called me, Kelly" she tucked a loose strand of hair behind Kelly's ear and had to fight the urge to let her fingers linger there.

"I did?" Kelly looked at her genuinely surprised for a brief moment before masking the expression with her well-practised poker face. Surely she would remember calling Annabelle.

"You phoned Polly, who phoned Taylor, who texted me to find your arse" Annabelle explained, retrieving her cell-phone from her jacket pocket to show Kelly the message.

_ur girlfrien is pissed. deal wif it_

It wasn't the first time Taylor referred to Annabelle as Kelly's girlfriend. She had been the first to notice the way in which Kelly looked at Fritton Jr. and used to tease her about it relentlessly, until Kelly threatened to tell the entire school about how she hugged Andrea at the National Art Gallery. Kelly was sure that Andrea knew as well, once she had heard her mumble some poetic bullshit about how if you don't risk anything you're risking even more.

"I don't think you can handle me, Fritton" she challenged.

"Come with me so I can prove you wrong, Jones." Challenge accepted.

Kelly let Annabelle lead her out of the bar and to where the car was parked. "Nice," she said after eyeing the vehicle Annabelle had 'borrowed' from the twins. She climbed into the passenger seat and crossed her arms defensively, unwilling to answer any question she was sure the other girl would ask.

"Are you going to tell me what prompted you to get off your tits?" But Kelly's answer consisted of a death glare followed by silence. The car ride was already promising to be long and awkward.

Annabelle decided not to push her luck any further, at least not for now. She turned the radio on and let her mind explore the many possibilities that could have driven the Kelly Jones to drinking her body weight in alcohol. She had seen Kelly drink on numerous occasions, she had seen her loosen up and joke and laugh thanks to alcohol before. But this time felt different, Kelly wasn't her usually happy tipsy self and that worried Annabelle. Could it be boy trouble? She hoped to God it wasn't.

"Say Kelly, did you get wasted because of a bloke?" She regretted asking as soon as the words left her mouth, and she didn't take her eyes off the road fearing that Kelly would wring her neck and cause them to crash.

"A bloke? Pfft, am I Chelsea Parker?" Kelly deadpanned. "You must think very little of me if you believe I'd drink because of a sodding boy." This time Annabelle turned to look at her and she was thankful she didn't miss Kelly scrunching her mouth at such a disgusting assumption. Kelly made the cutest facial expressions when she wasn't trying to disguise her emotions with a blank mask.

They spent the rest of the ride with Annabelle coming up with the most ridiculous ideas as to why Kelly had gotten drunk and needed 'saving.' Kelly patted Annabelle's shoulder playfully whenever the younger girl suggested something crazy, but really that was only an excuse to touch her without coming off as a creeper. As far as Kelly was concerned, it couldn't get any more ridiculous than Annabelle thinking she needed saving, and she made sure to tease her about it, falling into their usual pattern of friendly bicker.

By the time they arrived at St. Trinian's, they had forgotten about the why's and how's, and were simply content to be at home together for the first time in months. They managed to sneak into Annabelle's room without being seen, Annabelled said that it would be better if the girls didn't see Kelly any other way but composed and in total control of herself and Kelly didn't bother to correct her to tell her that they'd seen her in far worse states before. Both were secretly and silently pleased to be enjoying of each other's undivided attention.

"You never told me about your job, Kel. What is it that you do, Miss Jones?" Annabelle lifted an inquiring brow at Kelly, who was lying beside her in bed.

"I told you I work for the government," was the same rehearsed and cautious answer Annabelle was used to hearing. Just protecting her rose.

"But what do you do exactly?" Annabelle began to trace her fingers along Kelly's arm that was tightly wrapped around Belle's waist, unknowingly coaxing the former Head Girl to sleep.

"You never told me the truth about the count, Belle" the older girl managed to mumble before passing out with a slight smile curving her lipstick smeared mouth.

After kissing the top of Kelly's head, Annabelle allowed herself to fall asleep. Comfortable and warm and proud of herself for getting Kelly Jones back home safe and sound, proving that she knew damn well how to handle her.


End file.
